And He Fainted? And Other Stuff
by TheNutCrackParade
Summary: Okay, I said it's a one-shot. Well, make it a series of one-shots! May be updated on a weekly basis. I'm bad at summaries.
1. Doggie!

**Hello! It's been a very long while! -.-'' Sorry for not being here a loooooooot sooner. So anyway, here's a new one-shot! Vey short and I'm not really satisfied, though, but the idea's been lingering in my head for way too long. ^^''**

"No."  
>"Come on."<br>"Nuh-uh. Nein. I'm not going there."  
>"Oh gosh, Skul. You're afraid."<br>"I am most absolutely _not_. Stop pushing me. Are you pushing me?"  
>"Nope. You're pushing yourself."<br>"How am I pushing myself?"  
>"I have no idea."<br>"I'm stopping. There. I'm not going anywhere."  
>"What?"<br>"Scratch that. I'm not going anywhere _near her_, Val."  
>"But she's crazy about you."<br>"My point, exactly."  
>"That proves it then."<br>"Proves what?"  
>"You, who survived torture in a dimension filled with Facelesss Ones, are scared."<br>"Not true. I just don't like her company."

"OHH _JEEEEAAAAANN_! COME 'ERE, GIIIIRRRLL!"  
>"DON'T!"<br>"HERE, DOGGIE DOGGIE!"

Just then a giant shepherd dog came running, its mouth dipping with saliva as it smelled Skulduggery's bones. It jumped at his leg, making the ancient skeleton scream in ran around in circles trying to get the dog off him in vain.

"NOOOOOOOO...!"

...and then, unceremoniously, he fainted, and Valkyrie rolled over with hysteric laughter.

* * *

><p><strong>Skul's afraid of dogs. o.0<br>Reviews? Please? With strawberries on top?**


	2. There's Still Hope

**Hello again! This shot is totally unrelated to the one before. In fact, I wrote this in homework depression! -.-"**

**To whoever that invented homeworks, I'd swear I'd kill you, but you'd probably be dead long ago. o.0 Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

><p>The walls were painted a deep red. Blood red. The girl in black stood with her head low, her face smeared, her hands dripping with blood.<p>

She looked regretfully, sadly at the bodies in front of her. Her mother, her father, her sister who was ten when she stopped breathing. The bodies of Tanith Low, China Sorrows, Fletcher Renn, Solomon Wreath and even the remains of her mentor, Skulduggery Pleasant. And others as well. They all were there.

She had found and gathered them from all across Ireland when she gained her consciousness.

And now she was tired, sad and angry at herself. Who wouldn't? She had killed them all when she was Darquesse. She cackled as they scream. She broke their spines as they beg for mercy. Now she could only cry and mourn her loss.

She stared at her own reflection on a shard of glass on the floor. _Reflection_. "There's still hope," she said to herself, and her eyes gained back their maniacal deep black shade.

_There's still hope_.

* * *

><p><strong>So what'cha think? 0.o<strong>


	3. It Has A Ring To It!

**WARNING : NOT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY!**

* * *

><p>"Stephanie, I'd like to talk to you about something."<p>

Desmond Edgely gestured at his beloved daughter as she gulped down a full carton of milk. Stephanie raised her eyebrow and sat on the couch next to him. "Yeah, Dad?" she asked.

"Stephanie, I am about to give you the biggest secret in the history of Edgleys-"  
>"<em>Give<em>… me a secret?"  
>"Well yes, it's rather an object, really. It is the most powerful instrument in Haggard, and seeing you grow up to be a tough woman, I know that it is time to hand down the object."<p>

"Wow," Stephanie exclaimed. "You know about magic?"  
>"Well yes… Err… Magic. Well, it's… this."<p>

He handed her a small, foul-smelling pouch. Crinkling her nose and holding her breath, Stephanie opened the pouch and was startled by what she saw.

"It's a sock," she stated horrifically.  
>"Well… yes… It's a sock."<br>"A sock."  
>"It's a really important sock…"<br>"A freakin' sock, Dad."  
>"It has been passed down to many generations of Edgleys. Many, <em>many<em> generations.."  
>"…Generations…?"<br>"It was your granddad's, who got it from his father, who got it from _his_ great-grandfather, who got it from _his_ mother, who got it from _her_ mother."  
>"It's an old, stinky, mouldy, horrifyingly squelchy sock."<br>"If you want, think of it as a stinky, mouldy, horrifyingly squelchy magicky sock."

…  
>"Steph, think of it! The Sock of The Edgleys. It does have a ring to it."<br>...

"It's a sock."

* * *

><p><strong>I am sooooooo sorry! I kinda said it to be weekly but... hehe... =.=" I kinda<strong> **have internet problems and a serious block**.

**~NutCrack**

**16 August 11**


	4. Tattoo

**Closer**

She couldn't resist it. It was just so cool to have it on her arm. The swirling patterns, symbolizing rebellion. The day she decided to tattoo her arm was the day she saw the fallen angel on Tanith's back, when Ghastly finally managed to purify her Remnant-tainted soul. The angel was darkly beautiful, a skilled work of a skilled artist. She envied her, of course. This was as to why she decided to taint her arm with deep-black ink. But now she regretted it.

She thought of Cassandra's prophecy. The same swirl was on the same arm, as she saw her older self murder the world. Murder those she loved the most.

She's a step closer to darkness.

**Why do I write dark things? =.="  
>This is to make up for lost time...<br>I seriously make no sense here... =.="**

**~NutCrack  
>16 August 11<br>**


	5. Nightmare Much?

**And this is the 5th one-shot! Thank you my dear reviewers! All of 'em! Tariana Grace, Alethea Melanie-Rose****, priceless xpressions, and even Nobody!**

**Disclaimer! I am not a guy, I am still in my teens, and in no way am I Irish. I am far from it. So in what way does that makes me Derek Landy, the Awesome Golden God and creator of this fancy little world of wonders? Nada.**

**But I do own the plot, though.**

* * *

><p><em>The house was vast, but narrow at the same time. It was flooded with hot, sweaty, sticky humans. Huge people roaring with hideous laughter, other people bustling to and fro around the house scurrying for gossip. She was there, too. Uncomfortable, yes, but she didn't seem to mind one bit.<em>

_It was a happy occasion, after all._

* * *

><p>Valkyrie shifted in her sleep. Her skin was moist with sweat. She was heaving uneven breaths. The blond boy sitting next to her bed was also fast asleep on his chair, facing upwards, mouth agape. You could even say he was drooling a bit.<p>

They were fast asleep, one in a nightmare and the other in slumber land.

* * *

><p><em>She searched around, looking for a particular lady. The lady was nowhere to be found in the living room, so she went to the garden. There the lady stood, her plump figure slumping against a makeshift bar, face distorted into a forced look of joy. It looked everything like the opposite.<em>

_She walked towards the lady, and upon seeing her, the lady made way to greet her. The plastered joy was still on her face, but her eyes were of genuine exhaustion. "Stephanie, so good to see you again so soon," the lady said. She smiled sweetly. There was this kind of affection towards this lady, not daughter-to-mother-like, no.A friend-like affection? Not that, either. It was more than that. They are more than friends.  
><em>

"_Happy Birthday, Beryl! Where's my present?" she said as she hugged the lady who was chuckling.  
>"Yours? It's my birthday."<br>And then the plump lady kissed her._

* * *

><p>Valkyrie shot up. Her palms were sweaty, and her heart pounding. She looked around. Midnight. Good. It means no party or anything. Fletcher looking like a drooling buffoon. Also good. Still the same day, way too far from the woman's birthday. She let out a loud groan, waking the boy up. He rubbed his eyes. "Another nightmare?" he asked blearily.<p>

"Yeah. My worst."

* * *

><p><strong>I have no idea why it read like this. Huh.<br>I'll let you guys imagine what kind of 'relationship' they're in in the dream, now, ok?  
>I don't know anyone doing this pairing before. Hmm...<br>**

**~NutCrack  
>25 August 2011<strong>


	6. Babysitting?

**And so, here I am apologizing to me dear followers for not updating. I had serious writer's block and an annoying exam. Bah =.="  
>Prepare for OOC and randomness. Set when Val's still a child.<strong>

**Disclaimer : We all know I'm not Derek so...yeah..**

* * *

><p>It started innocently enough. And when I say innocent, I mean <em>innocently<em>-innocent. As in tiny, squishy four-year-old baby girl innocent. Why am I with this kid-who-doesn't-belong-to-me-by-the-way you ask? Well a good old _friend_ of mine, Gordon asked me to while he's off _womanizing_. Probably that Sorrows again. Hmph. Anyway, she - as in the little kid - is crying too loud for my non-existent ears to handle. What the _hell_ am I going to do? It's been a few hundred years since I've last handled a child. Two, actually. You'd think I'd be an expert because of that fact but _no_, I am completely incompetent at it. That was my wife's job. I regret not bothering now.

"Hey...uh..," I start. Starting what I don't know. "You want some...uh...some milk?" She's still crying, eyes screwed shut, yet she somehow managed to bob her head up and down like an idiotic jester. So I guess that's a yes. I went to the kitchen to find her milk. What kind of milk do kids nowadays drink? There's powdered, strawberry, chocolate, coffee, low-fat, calcium-empowered, goat. You name it, Gordon's got it. I grab the normal, no-nonsense cow milk and pour it into a shot glass. Quickly I ran off towards that girl. On second thought, I turn around and bring the milk carton along, just in case. She's sobbing silently now, and upon seeing the carton in my hand, her face glows. But then she poutes when she sees the shot glass.

"Why izit sho wittle?" She ask, pointing a finger at the glass. I tilt my head. "What? Not enough? Then what kind of glass do you use?" I countered, annoyed. She grins and points at the milk carton. "Oh God, you are _just like him_, such uncivilized manner...," I curse under my breath. In under a minute she emptied the carton after I hand it to her, leaving me awestruck. "What are you, a milk monster!" I scream my head off. She just giggles, then laughs. "Shays the mishter wid a white dotty ugly ball for hish fashe!" She points out. "Hey!" I say defensively, "My face is not a ball, and it is downright _handsome_, whiteness and all!"

She laughs for a few more seconds, then stops suddenly, staring above my head."What?" I ask.

"Can I have dat?"

"Can you have what?"

"Dat_ fing_ on your head."

"It is called a hat."

"Can I have dat hat?"

"What hat? This is a fedora."

"Okay, can I have dat fedora?"

"On second thought, this is a hat."

"Can I have dat hat fedora fedora hat?

"Ah. Sly little girl. No. You can not."

The girl stares at me intently. Oh that innocent face...

"Can I_ pwease_ have dat hat fedora?"

"...No."

Now she's staring with her puppy dog look on full throttle.

"_Pwease_, Mister _Pweashant_, can I have dat hat fedora? Pwease, wiff shtrobewies on top?"

_Ugh_, how I hate kids with their persuasiveness...

"...Okay," I say, handing my hat over, "But absolutle NO crimping, folding, biting, sucki- wait. No. Stop. What are you doing? _No_! NO SUCKING AND FLINGING MY PRECIOUS HAT INTO THE FURNACE YOU EVIL LITTLE #$^%!"

* * *

><p><strong>It sure is gonna be a long, loong day for Mishter Pweashant, eh? ^^<strong>

**~NutCrack**

**7 October 2011**


	7. Assasin

**Now, another dark story coming right up! What, don't you notice my oneshots are kind of taking turns between humorous and dark? Well, now you know. :D**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>A woman whistled the eerie tune of <em>'Circle you, Circle you' <em>in the dark starless night. She strutted with such carefreeness in her moves and a cheery grin on her lips that people would think her a harmless yet deliciously beautiful blond woman, almost drunk after a night in a bar. She turned towards a narrow alley and nearly reached a dead end when she saw a man talking to an unknown figure. He seemed in pain, clutching his rib and bending ever so slightly. The woman grinned.

Time for business.

She edged closer towards the walls around her, enveloping herself in the shadows. Slowly, she unsheathed her sword, now stone black in color, matching her dark soul. The black instrument had experienced many fights, both in the good and bad sides of fights, and had tasted even more blood. It had been told many stories, truths, lies, honesty, deceit. With such inhuman speed only she could do, she lunged at the man, elbowed hard into his jaw, and plunged her sword into the unknown figure. The unknown figure, a man once notoriously known as Rafael the back-alley dimwitted doctor collapsed, gagging in his own blood.

The woman turned towards the other man and slide-kicked him off the ground just before he was about to mole into it. "None of your tricks now, honey," she said, a smile on her face. The man desperately reached inside his pocket, but he was too late. The woman held up her left hand as if she was clutching the air, and whispered something inaudible. The man suddenly sprawled onto the floor, grasping his own neck as if someone was suffocating him. The woman, now grinning cruelly, walked towards the man, revealing her face.

A flicker of recognition came to his face."Rem-" he managed to say before he was beheaded by the woman's sword. The head rolled over until it bumped into a wall, and she picked it up and walked away, leaving the torso behind. She licked the tip of her blade. _They never get it, and never will_, she thought to herself. Remnant. Tanith. They were both the same, however much others refuse to accept it. Her face was the mask of sorrow, but then was replaced by her usual carefreeness as she got over that fact.

Yes. People would think she was just a beauty wandering aimlessly in the night. Some nocturnal men may even target her as prey. Harmless. But those people were wrong. Aside from being a beauty, she was also a ruthless assassin, not bothering whatever her target, be it her friend, lover, or family.

* * *

><p><strong>The ending's a bit crappy I know...<strong>

**Honestly I don't really want to put this up. :P But it's been lying around on my desktop for too long.**

**Please do NOT point out DB details, as I have not read it yet, so I don't know what actually happened to Tanith and Sanguine (yes, for those who haven;t figured it out yet, the man here is Sanguine).**

**However, you CAN point out errors, mistakes and whatnots so that I could improve.**

**~NutCrack**

**8 October 2011**


	8. I Didn't Think Of A Title

Darquesse had killed.

Darquesse had died.

Darquesse had healed.

Darquesse killed again.

Darquesse died again.

Darquesse healed again.

It was an endless cycle, her being hunted down by her ex-comrades, her dying, then her killing them. She grew bored. Bored of her routine. So it was no wonder that she just smiled when a certain Fletcher Renn smashed her entire body with his fists. Fletcher grunted, then stopped attacking, sensing something odd from the way she didn't fight back. Darquesse tilted her head. "What's the matter? Oh, don't worry. I'm not gonna hurt a single hair on you," she smiled sweetly. The boy pulled his left fist slowly, then blew a hole into her chest. He stepped back, watching her die. Again. This time, he thought, she's going to kill him for sure.

Darquesse didn't move. She didn't feel in pain. In fact, she felt blisssful. But of course, that happened everytime she 'died'. This time, however, she didn't want to live. So she didn't heal herself, she didn't think of getting back at her old friend. She just lay there, unmoving, life slipping away from her. Fletcher understood what was happening, and dialed a number. "Skul?" Darquesse heared her say. "Yeah. She just...I don't know. I thought she's going to heal herself but...Yes. Yes, I think so." He hung up and turned at the dying young woman.

"Hey, Val? You can still be with us, you know?" He whispered. "We can be just like old times."

Silence.

"Your sister's gonna miss you. And I know, whoever you are, you love her."

With that, Valkyrie shed the last tears of her life.

**I just felt like killing her. 0.o**

**~Nutcrack**


End file.
